The Weaver
by ShadesLament
Summary: "Talyos was always a magical place, so much so that magic flowed through the veins of its people. The degree of magic within a person determined what they could become, ranging from the skills of a simple hedgewitch to the awe-inspiring and dread-filling abilities of the sorcerers." If Hermione wasn't a witch, then what was she? AU Harmony.
1. The Beginning

Author's note: This is my first Harry Potter fanfiction and was something bouncing around in my head for a while now. This is for my own personal amusement so I'll finish it at some point, but if I have people who like it I may update faster. I welcome comments, let me know if it is something I should continue or if therewere any mistakes or improvements I could make.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

The Beginning

_"In every phenomenon the beginning remains always the most notable moment."  
- Thomas Carlyle_

"Talyos was always a magical place, so much so that magic flowed through the veins of its people. The degree of magic within a person determined what they could become, ranging from the skills of a simple hedgewitch to the awe-inspiring and dread-filling abilities of the sorcerers.

"The most numerous of the magic users were of course the hedgewitches, or wizards if the person was male. This group is the weakest in terms of actual magical ability, but were the most gifted with herbal remedies and potions. They were the healers of Talyos, able to speed healing and to save people from what should have been certain death. It has also been noted that they were gifted with simple household charms but need a wand as a focus.

"Following them are the magicians, who are what normally comes to mind when magic is thought of. It is very common to see a magician advising a king or noble. They work mostly with rituals instead of spellwork and often have magical familiars. There is also a separate class of magician called a seer. Seers have the ability to see possible futures and sometimes have the gift of prophecy.

"And finally there are sorcerers, typically the strongest of the magic users. They are able to use elemental spells as well as summon creatures. Not much is known about them except for the fact they tend to be on the evil side of the morality spectrum, often seeking to overthrow the ruling nobility.

"However, some scholars speculate that there may be another class of magic user. Shulaman the Wise proposed-"

"Hermione!"

The call rang out through the manor, causing the girl in question to slam shut the book she was reading with a very unladylike groan. Hastily, she stood up and hid the book she had found before trying to straighten out her skirts. They has become ridiculously rumpled while she had been hiding away with her book. If her mother caught her she'd be in a lot of trouble, but honestly she didn't know what else to do. Pushing that thought away until later, she went to greet her mother.

The woman had already been ascending the stairs to find her wayward daughter. Seeing her, she placed her dainty hands on her hips, frowning up at her only child. Looking down at her mother, Hermione already knew what the woman was about to say. It wasn't as if she didn't hear it all the time anyway.

"Hermione, you are almost 17. You know better than to skip your lessons with your governess, especially when your coming-of-age party is in two days!" the older woman said with no little exasperation.

Shaking her head, she continued. "Well, it's too late now. Change out of that dusty thing you are wearing. Our carriage for the city will be leaving on the hour and I expect you to be ready!" With that the woman turned and marched down the stairs.

Hermione said nothing as she watched her mother go, noting the colored lines she could see radiating from the woman but neglecting to meddle for the moment. Those little lines were one of the reasons she was researching magic behind her mother's back. It was like nothing she'd heard about and had been hoping to find some answers in the musty textbooks her father kept, but so far she'd had no luck.

From what she'd been able to learn from personal experiments, those colored lines represented emotions and thoughts. With a little bit of tugging on the right lines, Hermione could influence the way someone felt or what they thought, though it was more difficult the stronger a will the person had. But more useful were what Hermione called matter lines. With a small tug she could bring something to herself or send it away. It also worked for people but took more work.

With just a thought, she zeroed in on the feeling of her room and reached out with a mental tug. Within seconds, her feet were deposited on the carpeted floor of her room. Eyeing what was left of her magic reserves, she gave a mental nod to herself before calling for a maid to help her dress. No sense in keeping her mother waiting.

* * *

Sitting in the carriage beside her mother, Hermione tried not to fidget in her excitement. Shooting a glance at her mother, she suppressed an envious sigh. She always acted the proper lady, something Hermione thought she may never be however hard she tried.

She honestly wasn't sure how the woman could take it. It had only been three hours but Hermione was about to be driven crazy with how stuffy her dress made her feel and how the pins holding her curls in place stuck in to her scalp. Truly it was maddening. Trying to take her mind off of how uncomfortable she was, Hermione instead thought about the City.

The City had no other name for it was the only large city in Talyos worth mentioning. It was where the king held court and where the magician's college was. Anyone who was anyone wanted to live there. Hermione's father often stayed in a penthouse they owned as he attended to the king, not quite a lord on the Council but noble enough.

There were no manors in the City, just small houses noble families kept for when they visited. Most nobles tended to live outside the city with very few taking up permanent residence. Those who did were usually very important and close to the king.

Seeing the first outpost from the carriage window, Hermione couldn't help but let a smile cross her face. In about an hour they'd reach the main gate to the City. She hadn't been since she was 10 and introduced to the king, as all noble children were when they reached a decade. Now she was to be introduced to society at the ball her parents were hosting in the palace. It was to signify she was an adult as well as a notice that she was of marriageable age, as much as she despised the last part. Thankfully her father wasn't so draconian as to marry her off to the highest bidder.

Hermione was shaken from her thoughts when she felt the carriage come to a stop. Confused, she glanced to her mother who simply smiled slightly. "Our papers must be checked over," she said by way of explanation. "You may get out for a few minutes if you wish, but do not stray far. I will get the driver to fetch you when it is time to leave."

Not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth, she hopped out of the carriage as quickly as she could, eager to stretch her legs after almost four hours of sitting. Looking around, she noted they were at a small trading post of some kind. It appeared that traffic was often stopped here to be checked over and a small community had risen up, taking advantage of travelers wanting to eat or drink after a long ride.

There appeared to be an inn as well as various other small businesses and homes. Hermione knew some people actually lived here, those who were of higher class than the poor but not quite middle class. She knew also that a lot of the family members of magicians stayed here as well while the magician was a student at the college behind the City's walls.

Meandering around the area, she eyed the odd sights and sounds while also trying to keep the carriage in sight. It would do her no good to lose it. It was then she noted a commotion farther up ahead. Hurrying, she spied a horse rearing back, its owner trying to calm it. No one seemed to notice the little boy stuck behind the cart hooked to the horse. If it backed up any more the boy could be crushed.

Glancing around quickly, Hermione realized everyone was watching the horse or the handler. Without a second thought, she reached forward for the thread attached to the boy and _pulled_. Bewildered, the boy ended up in her arms and out of arms way.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she looked up and met startled, bright green eyes. An icy hand gripped her heart when she realized someone had seen what she had done. Decided the best option was to ignore it and play it off, she made sure the boy was okay before turning and hurrying back to her carriage. It would be better to just wait things out. She had found enough trouble today and hoped what she did wouldn't come back to haunt her.


	2. Needful Summons

Author's Note: So the second chapter is here for those who enjoyed the previous chapter. Here we start to get some action and get into the actual meat of the story. It's not beta'd, so if there are any mistakes I apologize. Suggestions and questions are welcomed if you care to share your opinion.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

* * *

Needful Summons

"_In life you need either inspiration or desperation."  
– Tony Robbins_

Two days had passed since Hermione and her mother had arrived at the City and it was all she had ever hoped it would be. It was so full of life! Hermione had been used to the slow meandering way of life in the country, but here there was so much energy. There was color, art, and people going to and fro on the streets.

The town house had been what she expected, something small with a few bedrooms, and family room, and a dining room. Her father only kept a small staff of three people: a cook, and maid, and then a manservant who also spent time delivering messages. Hermione could understand, this place wasn't nearly so large a place as their manor and it took some getting used to.

On the first day, her mother had arranged for Hermione to have a tour of the City since they had planned to stay for the next couple of months. Her father's manservant, named Otto, had arranged for a carriage and had showed her around.

There were plenty of parks and teahouses, as well as shops; Hermione had already decided she was going to visit several of the bookstores they had come across, but that would have to come later. One of her favorite things Otto had showed her was the palace. She wasn't able to enter on that day, but even just sitting on the street and studying it was amazing. It was full of turrets and towers with winding paths and gardens visible even from behind the gates that kept it cordoned off from the populace.

But the very best thing, in her opinion, was the magician's college. It, like the palace, was closed off from the streets, but to Hermione it held so much more mystery. At her request, they had sat outside the college for some time, just watching people come and go.

She had noted that there was an awful lot of people coming and going, and Otto explained that not everyone was a magician. It was very common for noble born children to have classes there since magicians were usually very well-schooled. However, one could only become a student at the college's invitation and the student did have to pay tuition to go. He also mentioned there were a few lesser children allowed to go on scholarship, but no one really knew how these common children were selected.

On the way back to the town house that evening, Hermione could only wish that she could only be so lucky to go, though she knew it unlikely considering that her mother was not planning on staying here full-time. Hermione knew it was inevitable that they would eventually go home, though now that she'd had a small taste of city-life she was loath to go back to the quaint countryside.

But currently she had no time to be thinking those thoughts. It was the day of her 17th birthday party and she was staring in aghast at the disaster her dress for the ball was. She shot her eyes at her mother in questioning disbelief only to find the woman nodding in satisfaction.

"Mother, do you really expect me to wear this?" Hermione had already decided she would sooner touch a deadly scorpion than she would that ruffled, fluffy monstrosity.

"Well, of course, Hermione dear. I've been told it was the height of fashion; it's lovely."

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Hermione knew she'd have to do something and fast. While she had nothing against the color, a soft rose, she knew it would wash her out and she'd be completely engulfed in the ruffles. Though she had seen dresses so poufy on other women the other day during her tour, it was not something she'd be willing to wear.

Casting her mind out for strings of nearby thoughts, she found a few women who were still decorating the ballroom for the event this evening. It didn't take much poking and prodding for Hermione for the women to decide they weren't sure about the flower arrangements and needed Lady Granger's guidance.

With her mother out of the room, she got to work. A tweak of one thread changed the color to a deeper carmine, knowing the red would go much better with her coloring. Satisfied with that, she began to play with the shape of the gown, reducing the layers to a much simpler flare below her hips.

Knowing she could make minor adjustments later once the dress was on, she sought her mind out towards her mother, gently blurring her memories of the dress. It was much easier to haze memories and have people convince themselves that their old memories were wrong rather than create new ones herself. People tended to see what they expected to see, so if her mother saw the new dress but couldn't quite remember what the old one looked like, well then it must have always been like that!

When the woman returned, muttering under her breath about useless servants, she could only stare in confusion at the dress before shaking it off. She must have been imagining things. Hermione could only smile inwardly as she was commanded by her mother to begin getting ready, beckoning in a maid to help her.

Once the dress was on, Hermione could only look with satisfaction. The sleeves were off the shoulder with a tight cinch at the waist. It clung to her figure until just below her hips where the fabric flared out to the floor, full of layers of red gauze inter-spaced with gold which flashed as she walked. The back of the gown was open with a golden chain connecting it together.

Her wild curls were left alone to tumble down her back, instead of the usual severe updo. A delicate golden chain was placed on the forehead, holding her hair back from her face, with the ends allowed the trail down her back and intermingle with her curls. A little carmine was added to her lips to echo her dress and that was all. Hermione never truly wore much make-up, not even for a ball such as this.

With one last look in the mirror, Hermione decided she was ready and swept out of the room, knowing the ball would begin very soon.

* * *

Peeking out from the dividing curtain, Hermione was amazed at the amount of people who had decided to show up. Of course, it was being hosted by the king, so most of the noble families who had taken up residence in the City would be coming, but honestly Hermione hadn't realized there were so many of them.

Bored, and knowing it would be a while yet before she was introduced, she decided to take a stroll around the nearby garden. No one should be here right now since the ball was currently going on, so she should be safe enough.

It was dark, the sun having fallen beyond the horizon an hour ago, but the moon was full, accented by the few lanterns that dotted the paths here and there. For the first ten minutes, she greatly enjoyed herself. The flowers were beautiful and their smell was heady in the late summer air that had just the barest hint of the bite of autumn which would soon arrive. All too soon, however, an unsettled feeling began to fall over her.

Frowning, she opened her mind and cast around for someone else here in the garden with her. Unexpectedly, she reached what felt to her a physical wall. This had never happened before and it scared her.

Very quickly she began making her way back inside, but found herself disoriented. Stopping, she closed her eyes and thought. Normally she never lost her way, her internal magic keeping that from happening. But something seemed to be blocking it, and no one else could do that except for someone else with magic, but magicians couldn't do that. So what was it? Could there be a sorcerer here? But if there was, why would he or she be after her?

So lost in her thoughts was she that she almost screamed in surprise when a dark figure stepped into the circle of lantern light she had stopped in. Hermione took a step back to put distance between the two of them and glared at the man.

"Just who do you think you are, coming here and scaring me like that?" she asked, trying to play dumb while she tried to come up with some idea on how to get herself out of the situation she was now in.

The man just chuckled darkly, blue eyes lighting with cruel mirth. "I think you know well enough. We know what you did at the outpost. You have made us most curious," he murmured, raking a hand through his blond hair. "But if you know, my name is Thorfinn Rowle." He gave Hermione a mocking bow before straightening.

"Lord Rowle, while it is very nice to meet you, I simply have no idea of what you speak. My mother is surely missing me and I must go."

She tried to dart around the man, but suddenly found herself unable to move, as if the very air would not release her from its hold. Casting horrified eyes at Thorfinn, Hermione tried to struggle but found no give in whatever was holding her.

The large and muscled man only laughed at her, shaking his head. "You really don't have any defense against magic, do you? This will be easier than I thought; we really expected some resistance."

As the man gloated over her, Hermione was only getting more and more desperate. Her mental probes were not working on this man, something was blocking her. She also could not transport herself back inside, the same wall she had run into before still up.

That last straw was when Thorfinn walked up to her and touched her face. Hermione could feel her magic well up all of a sudden in response to her fear and desperation and something outside seemed to ping in response. Thorfinn must have felt it too because he yanked his hand back and glanced around, eyes furrowed.

"That felt like a summoning…" he muttered.

That was the last thing he ever said, for howling out of the dark appeared a large and fearsome black dog that lunged at the surprised man. Its large bulk was enough to knock Thorfinn down and keep him pinned before it casually ripped his throat out. He never had a chance to react.

At Thorfinn's sudden death, the magic holding Hermione was released, causing her to stumble back from the large animal. She knew she was ashen white at the sight and wondered if she would be next. But to her surprise, she felt a tentative mental touch from the animal. Hesitantly, she opened her mind to it and suddenly relaxed at the feelings of love and devotion from the animal.

With a sob, she fell upon the dog, shaking from the adrenalin coursing through her system. She'd come very close to being kidnapped by this strange magician and it worried her. From what this Thorfinn had said, there were more of them. And now she had the dead body of a lord on her hands. What was she supposed to do now?

Already weary and ready for the night to be over, she stood and straightened herself to look presentable before looking at the large dog and the rapidly cooling body. Before she could so much as start to head towards the palace and the guards waiting inside, a drawling voice emerged from the darkness, prompting a growl from Hermione's new canine friend.

"Just what do we have here? Seems like someone had gotten into a spot of trouble."


End file.
